


i win

by BlackSclera



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: i wrote this like 2 yrs ago, if the anime was a game, nhhngn i miss my old writing style aaaaaH, this is a "bad end"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 12:04:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15000500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackSclera/pseuds/BlackSclera
Summary: Reborn was the third and definitely not the last. And unlike Tsuna's mother and Kurokawa Hana, it didn't take him long to figure out.





	i win

 

 

Nana was the first to notice.

 

It was a gradual sort of realization, bits and pieces falling into place in a manner that only she could perceive as his mother.

 

She was a little odd, people would say, more often than not in front of her face with little reservation or shame because they knew that she was simply bound to laugh it off or deflect it with an exaggerated yet genuine airheadedness. Oblivious with an eerie sort of luck for avoiding dangers that she somehow managed to attract, positively smitten with the man she married whom she claimed to love even after _ten years_ of absence.

 

And if that wasn't bad enough, nobody in the entire town has seen the man's face or heard his name.

 

Of course, there is the lurking suspicion that perhaps the man never existed in the first place. It was a rumor that many believed, if not simply for the sake of putting rest to what could possibly be an indefinitely unresolved case since Nana seemed adamant in refusing to give any answers. Yet all the same, some were skeptical.  They argued that it doesn't explain the financial part of the 'equation', doesn't explain where all their money is coming from.

 

As far as they all knew, Nana was unemployed. And they  _would_ know if she wasn't, considering how fast news travel in the town. So, they would say, a little bitterly, it was entirely impossible that an unemployed woman who lived alone with her son in a decent house would be able to sustain their needs, and maybe even far beyond the point of necessity if there truly was no husband to speak of regardless of the fact that not a single person in the town knows his name.

 

So there was that. But of course, no one could really bring themselves to ask her outright.

 

Nana was  _weird_ like that.

 

And so although they thought it couldn't get any weirder, it does.

 

Sawada Tsunayoshi. Her one and only son, born from an unnamed and faceless father.

 

 _Useless, no-good, stupid,_ they call him many things, every word demeaning and humiliating, a little harsh for a mere child who doesn't seem to have any particular goal in life.

 

Unlike the mystery regarding her relationship with her husband, what they found weird wasn't her son or anything relating to his birth, but Nana's  _treatment_ of him.

 

She was rather lax -  _negligent,_ even - in terms of her son's discipline despite the clear fact that he was in dire need of much disciplining and scolding, proven by his academic records and behavior in school. The school has tried arranging parent-teacher conferences, particularly with regards to Tsuna's behavior towards his studies, but just as most things prove to be with his mother, it was futile. Excessively kind or unbelievably dense, they would call her, and decide that it was for the better if they simply didn't bother.

 

It was almost as if she doesn't  _care_ , people told each other behind her back, having seen the way she gives her son free reign over everything he does, be it at home or in school. 

 

Nana knew, and didn't deny. She simply kept listening to them talk, some words carrying more truth than the others.

 

(They were on the right track, she doesn't say, but unfortunately, it was more than that.)

 

* * *

 

 

The second to notice was, surprisingly enough, Kurokawa Hana. Sharp-witted with an equally sharp tongue, unafraid to do everything she can for the sake of Sasagawa Kyoko.

 

For all of Kyoko's popularity, not many had the courage to confess or talk to her for many reasons. Either that it was difficult with so many boys crushing on her, or that they simply couldn't talk to her, too embarrassed to initiate any form of contact with the most popular girl in school more often than not. Most of the time, however, it had to do with Hana's murderous glares honed through years of experience and demeaning manner of speech which could put any disappointed mother's sermon to shame, and through some miracle, Kyoko never notices.

 

She wasn't as strong as Kyoko's brother, Ryohei, and she begrudgingly acknowledges that she can't protect Kyoko in all aspects of defense, couldn't really win in a fist fight against bull-headed idiots who didn't have the mental capacity to understand what  _no_ meant. But Hana was everything if not determined to do be able to  _protect_ and she had her own way of winning her battles. Without a need to hit a face with enough force to knock several teeth out or haul a bag and pray it hits them right in their groin, Hana learned to sharpen her tongue, the manipulative and provocative ability of twisting her words just right ascertaining that she'll be able to buy some time for Ryohei to arrive, if not help them remain unscathed by the end of the conversation. That is to say that for the number of years she has learned to send bullies thrice her size crying for their mothers, Hana was more perceptive than others.

 

And all things considered, Sawada Tsunayoshi couldn't be more obvious about his admiration even if he tried.

 

Hana hated him. Despised him, even. She hated him so much she thinks that if the opportunity dared to present itself, she wouldn't mind gutting him in front of their class with a kitchen knife, all consequences be damned.

 

The stupid kid goes and trips over his feet every time he walks to his desk, falls asleep in the middle of classes, somehow manages to make something fall every 15 seconds, his own body included, fails every test that even those who competed for his position of dead last could ace, and yet he continues to look at her best friend with that look in his eyes like he's seeing a goddess amongst men.

 

It wasn't new or anything particularly special, really, with all the types of people falling for Kyoko. Tsuna just happened to be... different. In all the wrong ways.

 

Hana might be quick to judge - often for a good reason, she'd say - but even she wouldn't just come to simply dislike Tsuna because he couldn't walk down the stairs without tripping over his feet and kissing the floor. She didn't have a reason to hate him at first. After all, he hadn't hurt Kyoko in all the years she'd known him.

 

Until she notices it.

 

The brief lapses of inattention, the questionable pauses in his movement like he's thinking of something he didn't want to, the terribly uncharacteristic look he'd get in his eyes when he thinks nobody's looking.

 

A different angle, she tells herself then, she has to look at things from a different angle and find out.

 

She started looking into the brunet's behavior every chance that she could get without worrying Kyoko - thank the heavens for that; she didn't want her to misunderstand - and observed. It took a while, took more than just a couple of glances in class and outside the school as he heads home, but eventually, Hana began to _see_ things she would never have noticed before, had she not bothered to look. 

 

And she starts seeing things she wishes she hadn't.

 

It started out simple-  _was_ simple, Hana remembers thinking, until it wasn't.

 

Sometimes, Tsuna would get this look in his eyes, a fleeting moment that barely lasts a few seconds. Indiscernible, sharp, assessing and derogatory in a manner that one who thinks of himself higher would, and Hana thinks of her best friend, thinks of the admiration and bright gazes Tsuna would give her, the pained smile that follows right after when he thinks nobody's looking.

 

Sometimes, the light would cast shadows over his face, and red will dance in his one eye, swirling into a vivid crimson that curled around startling white. And she was probably just seeing things, probably imagining it, but Tsuna stops to break the gaze every time he slumps. On his desk, on the wall- and nobody would ask why. It was  _Tsuna_ , they probably think, and it was normal. It wasn't worth the questions, wasn't worth the concern.

 

But something was wrong, Hana could say certainly then. There was something wrong with him. She can see it from the look in his eyes, from the tilt of his lips, from this voice, mute and inaudible yet grating all the same. She could see it in dark, deep red, the smudge of blue in brown when their gazes meet. 

 

And she sees it when Tsuna asks her to talk with him one day, eyes wet with unshed tears and smile straining to hold. Hana hears it when Tsuna takes a shaky breath and whispers, voice breaking, "Run."

 

Hana knows when to avoid a fight she couldn't win. 

 

To run from something that's far stronger, far more dangerous than obstinate and pretentious bullies and irritatingly persistent suitors.

 

Ryohei can't save her.

 

And so she runs.

 

All this time, she thought she had been protecting Kyoko. But truth is, Hana had never felt so helpless as she had when she ran from that room.

 

* * *

 

 

Reborn was the third, and definitely not the last. And unlike Tsuna's mother and Hana, it didn't take him long to figure out.

 

Reborn draws his gun and aims, obsidian eyes cold to its core as a dark scowl overtook his face.

 

"Rokudo Mukuro," he spits with contempt, with all the disgust he has for the worst things in this world.

 

Tsuna laughs. He laughs and  _laughs_ until he's on the verge of tears, the muzzle of the gun digging against his skin, an air of bitter resentment hanging heavy over his head.

 

"You can't pull the trigger," he murmurs, the face of Iemitsu's dead son twisting into a smile of ugly arrogance. He presses against the gun, eyes glowing blue and red. "The blood of Vongola flows within  _my_ veins. Would you be so willing to end the line of successors with your own hands?"

 

Reborn dreamt of meeting Iemitsu's son, once. And now, he'll never have that opportunity.

 

"I win, Arcobaleno," Mukuro murmurs, "Vongola is mine."

 

And it was.

 


End file.
